To Gain A Son
by rimera
Summary: When Jeanette died, Lacroix said he had lost a daughter, but gained a son. What if Jeanette's death had been enough to make Nick realize his quest to become mortal had been wrong? AU, no pairings, Nick finally returns to his Master. Not slash.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I know, you want to see Nick and Natalie live happily ever after. You want to see Tracy and Vachon. Or even Nick and Jeanette. But vampires don't get 'happily ever after'... they are damned. Nick goes to the only one who can help him deal with that fact...**

**I don't own Forever Knight.**

**_Prologue_  
**

A solitary figure stood in the shadows, hidden away from the bustle below, as people photographed and catalogued and dusted spoke in consoling or curious murmurs in what used to be his place of solitude. Among these invaders was a woman, mousy brown hair barely hiding the red puffiness of her tear-streaked cheeks, not really photographing or cataloging anything, just standing... just mourning.

Mourning him.

A familiar hand fell upon his shoulder, and Nick nodded imperceptibly, casting one last glance at the woman before receding further into the shadows. Before he turned away completely, however, Nick whispered something under his breath, something he knew would not be heard over the movement and murmuring of the people in his livingroom. Something which could barely be heard by Lacroix, who was patiently waiting for Nick to follow him out the window the elder vampire had often used to enter Nick's apartment.

"Goodbye, Nat," Nick whispered.

And then he was gone.

Below, the woman with the tear-streaked face turned very still, and looked up... to see only shadows.


	2. Chapter 1: Thirst

_**A/N: Someone has suggested that I make this story more understandable by those who have not seen Forever Knight. I shall endeavor to do so, while still keeping the die-hard fans entertained. Please let me know how I am doing, both in this regard, as well as any other in which you see I may need improvement. I am certain there are many places where that may be so.**_

I do not own Forever Knight.

Airplanes were the overseas transportation of choice in this generation. They were faster, some say easier on the stomach, and it afforded you a more stunning view of the final destination once it landed.

And any sun-filled sky that might accompany it.

For this reason, Nick gazed out the port of a ship instead, as he and Lacroix waited for their departure over the seas instead of the skies. Lacroix had taken care of everything... even to ensure that they not be disturbed by anyone, no matter for how important or trivial a matter. And so, Nick gazed out into the darkness, knowing the time would soon come to cover the window tightly against the sun's rays. It was his last night in Canada... his last night near her.

As if on cue, the ship put off from port, he could feel the movement, and he turned away to see Lacroix sitting nearby, a wine bottle in hand... and two glasses on the table.

"Sit down, Nicholas," he said, in tone that caused Nick's instinctive obedience, even after all the centuries. He did so slowly, however, dreading what he knew was to come.

All those years, he had fought his own nature. All those years, drinking the blood of animals, avoiding human blood like the plague, lest the thirst cause him to slip, to drink from a living vessel...

And yet, hadn't all of his attempts at becoming mortal, all those decades of self-denial, caused his thirst to grow? So much so that, as he sat, nearing the bottle, a sense of longing fought with his pre-existing sense of dread, the conflicting emotions playing over his features in a way that anyone could see.

But it wasn't anyone who was with him. It was Lacroix.

"Nicholas, you know as well as I that your abstinence from human blood has done more harm to you than good. It was a noble effort, but a misguided one," he said, as he uncorked the bottle, and poured the thick red liquid into both of the glasses. His eyes met Nick's. "I can feel the thirst within you, Nicholas. Drink," he said.

Nick looked away, down at the wine glass. He could smell it... it was all he could do to keep his hand from shaking as it reached out for the glass...

Distinctly he was reminded of a time long ago, over 800 years ago... the very first time he had taken a victim...

He was flushed. The glass was empty, and his hand was shaking, and the stem of the glass broke within his grasp. He could feel it... coursing through him...

"Yes, Nicholas," a voice whispered in his ear, and Lacroix was behind him, his hands on his shoulders. "Your thirst rages, it permeates the room," he said, and reached over, sliding the bottle into Nick's hands. "Drink... drink, and remember. Remember the thirst... remember why we drink..."

"I remember," Nick said, his throat hoarse, eyes glowing and fangs extended even without his permission. Carefully, so very carefully, he brought the bottle to his lips.... and drank...

Lacroix watched as Nick drank deeply from the bottle, relishing in the sated thirst of his childe. When Nick had come to him with news of Jeanette's death, he had been greatly saddened, though he had felt the ache of her absence long before. But though he mourned the loss of his daughter, he was amazed, transfixed, at the change it had wrought in his son.

Ever since he had first brought Nick across all those centuries ago, he had sensed a nagging doubt within his childe, despite the gusto with which he had taken to the life of a vampire. Over the centuries, Nick's doubt had grown, festered, until it took him over, and his son had been all but lost to him.

But when Nick had returned to him that night, the vision of Jeanette's body still echoing painfully in his thoughts, the smell of her still upon him... something had shifted within him. It was small... but it was detrimental, like a tiny crack spidering out over fine porcelain. They had both sensed it... and, for once, Nick began to listen to reason.

The bottle on the table was empty, and Nick's eyes were closed, his breath trembling, and Lacroix could feel the long-denied vampire awakening within his son. Now it was time for control, for the steadying hand of the Master, lest Nick lose himself in his thirst.

"That is enough for now, Nicholas," Lacroix said, unnecessarily moving the now empty bottle out of reach. "How do you feel?"

Nick's eyes remained closed, but he responded quickly enough. "Alive," he said, his voice shaking somewhat. His eyes opened, boring into his Master's, and they were normal, the deep blue of the eyes he had been born with. "I... I feel like I'm slowly waking up," he said, though Lacroix did not miss the flicker of doubt that shadowed his face.

"Good, Nicholas. You've taken the first step to recovery. There is still a long way to go, but you should take these steps slowly. Trust in me, Nicholas. Have I not always guided you?" he asked, searching the face of his son.

Nick gazed at him. "Yes... yes you have," he said, his voice heavy with emotion, though there were so many Lacroix could not divine which one was felt the most strongly. "Even when I turned my back on you... you never gave up on me," he said, his expression of a seriousness Lacroix had become quite accustomed to over the years.

Lacroix nodded, and walked behind him, laying a hand on his son's head as though he were a child. "I have already forgiven you, Nicholas," he said, smiling as he laid a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Now, it's time to rest. The sun is getting ready to rise," he said, though Nick's hand came up to linger over his for a brief moment before Lacroix withdrew it.

It was an easy matter of covering the tiny window so that no light permeated the room. The cabin was small, but not cramped, and it was not long before Nick was asleep. Despite his advice to the contrary, Lacroix stayed up for a few hours, watching him, contemplating what was to come...

_**A/N: Tell me what you think, dear readers. Your comments are like my navigational charts... the journey has started, but where will it lead?**_


	3. Chapter 2: A Clean Slate

_**A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, especially those with suggestions. I shall do my best to incorporate them.**_

_**I do not own Forever Knight.**_

Nick had been silent and sullen for most of the trip. Lacroix understood... and as there was little else to do during the voyage, he allowed Nick to brood. Once they arrived at their destination, there would be little time for it. Lacroix would see to that.

Fortune had been with them, and the sun had already set when they reached port. Nick hadn't even bothered to ask where they were going, and seemed to walk down the ramp like a man walking to his execution. They hadn't bothered with passports... before anyone could question them, Lacroix leaned to whisper into Nick's ear. "The time for sulking is over, Nicholas. Follow me," he said, and disappeared in the crowd of people.

Nick looked up, somewhat startled, though he shouldn't have been. He had lived this last lifetime as a cop, pursuing mortals, but to pursue a vampire, that took an amount of skill he hadn't used in a while. Particularly a vampire as old as Lacroix.

Seeing the checkpoint up ahead, Nick disappeared himself, moving quickly and silently through the throng of people... using his senses as Lacroix had taught him long ago, the sense which told him he was nearing his Master.

It was not long before their chase led away from the docks, and into the city streets. Nick began to realize where they were... he had been here before, but long, long ago. Some of the cobblestone streets and more ancient buildings still looked the same... only much older. And his sightseeing was distracting him from the chase.

Keeping his focus on Lacroix, he took to the air, deciding the rooftops would be easier ground to cover, and less conspicuous to passers-by.

He sensed him in a dark alleyway not too far ahead of him... but he wasn't moving from that spot. Silently, but swiftly, Nick moved to the ledge, just above where he sensed Lacroix.

Nick's suspicions were correct... there was someone else with him in the alley. Nick watched from the shadows...

Then wished he had not. For Lacroix had merely stopped for a meal... and more than that, he had waited for Nick to arrive, to watch. The young woman struggled at first, but soon her struggling had ceased, and Lacroix let her fall to the ground, looking up at Nick.... smiling...

And then he was gone again. Taking one last regretful glance at the dead woman in the alley, Nick took to the air once again, in pursuit of Lacroix.

The chase didn't last much longer. Soon Nick alighted in an alley next to a rather large building - a club of some kind, if the music was any indication. Of course he would come here... old memories did not die with their kind. Nick's eyes were hooded as he circled around to the front and walked through the doors.

His nose picked up the scent of blood here easily... of course, Jeanette hadn't been the only vampire to think of such a place. And, just as in the Raven, there were mortals here as well, apparently oblivious to the dark nature of the vampires they were mingling with. Lacroix was sitting in the back, sipping on a glass of something unmistakeable, except, perhaps, to the mortals, who obviously just passed it off as red wine.

Nick made his way through the crowd, ignoring those who sought eye contact with him, and came at last to stand at Lacroix's table. "You've gotten slow, over the years, Nicholas. Have a seat," he said, gesturing to a spot in the booth beside him. Nick did so, knowing there was really little else to do, and took a moment to look out over all the patrons before he spoke.

"I'm surprised you didn't make me kill her," he said finally, knowing Lacroix was waiting for him to say what was on his mind.

This brought a partial chuckle from the old vampire, who had lowered his glass so as not to spill it. "And, would you have? If I had 'made' you, as you put it?"

"No," Nick replied quickly, as though it were obvious. Of course, it was obvious... that was why Lacroix hadn't even attempted it.

"Come on, Nicholas. You give me too little credit. I brought you here to help you... but, ultimately, the decision is yours whether or not you accept my help. It always has been," he said, and smiled at the dubious look Nick shot him. "It is my hope that you have seen the errors of your ways, Nicholas, the price you pay for ignoring the lessons I have taught you. I know you, Nicholas... I know what you are capable of... and what you are not yet ready to do. Trust in me, Nicholas. I will help you, if you let me," he said, gazing at his son.

Nick sighed, then nodded. "I know," he said, his voice tired. "That's why I came to you in the first place. I..." He gazed back out at the patrons, at the mortals, dancing and drinking, oblivious to what was around them. "I'm not one of them. I never can be... not truly. When Jeanette died..." He swallowed hard, looking away.

Lacroix made a subtle gesture to the bar keeper, and soon someone came with another glass of blood. Lacroix was keenly aware of the irony of his situation... it was Nick's guilt that was the problem, yet it was that very guilt that had brought his son back to him, for help. He felt guilty over Jeanette's death. And yet, Lacroix could not help him deal with that fact, for that was the very reason he remained in the first place... why he trusted Lacroix. It was a challenge, to be sure... but one Lacroix looked forward to with relish.

"Drink, Nicholas," Lacroix said, gesturing towards the glass. "We must live for the moment... we must put the past behind us. A clean slate, Nicholas... that is what this place is all about. Look at them," he said, raising a hand to indicate the people all around them. "None of them know each other from Adam, even most of the vampires are anonymous to one another. Yet here they are, wooing and cavorting and striking up conversation, hoping the ones who draw their interest will consider them no better or worse than anyone else. Some are here, cheating on wives or husbands, some are here on the run from the police, and some are merely uninterested in the people they know during the day, and are looking for a good time. But none of that matters here and now... they are all anonymous, their pasts overlooked, their sins forgiven, if only for tonight, if only for a few hours. Just like you, Nicholas," he said, his eyes boring into the young vampire. "You are not a detective here, Nicholas... you are not a knight in shining armor, just as you are not a honed killer, or a Crusader responsible for the deaths of innocent pagans. You are new, here, Nicholas... to those who glance your way, you have no past... only potential." He smiled and took another sip. "Incidentally, Nicholas, that is also the way I choose to see you," he said.

Nick looked at him then, startled. "Ah, yes, Nicholas.. you'll find that the only one holding your past sins against you, is yourself," Lacroix said, leveling a gaze at him. "In this place, in this time, you are a new vampire, Nicholas. I plan to grant you all the patience and guidance I did when I first brought you across. In essence... you will need to re-learn your first lessons... those are, after all, the ones you never quite seemed to grasp," he said, then smiled. "But we can deal with all of that later. For now, drink. You will need your strength for tomorrow night," he said.

Nick glanced down at the glass, and picked it up, drinking it quickly. It was easier for him now... the first taste of human blood after all that time had been difficult, overwhelming... but it was quickly becoming second nature to him. He was torn on whether or not that should bother him... but he had made his decision, crossed the line, and now there was no going back.

But it would take a long time before he actually enjoyed it. Part of him hoped he never would.

They did not remain at the club for long. Once they had finished their drinks, Lacroix paid the barkeeper and they left, by way of the street. They strolled along at a mortal's pace, taking in the scenery.

_**A/N: Well, dear readers, tell me what you think of how I am doing. I have not forgotten the inner struggle within Nick, as one of my precious reviewers reminded me. He has not fallen to taking lives, but then... has his training really begun? What does Lacroix have in store for his 'Prodigal's Son'?**_


End file.
